


Points In Time Series

by alicambs



Category: Ultraviolet (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-20
Updated: 2010-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-08 04:08:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicambs/pseuds/alicambs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eight separate stories, all inter linked, but spaced over time. Parts 2 and 3 happen over a period of twenty-four hours, the others over weeks and months.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Visit

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first piece of fan fiction. I sent it, in a different order, to a UV mailing list over the autumn of 2000. At the beginning of 2001, having learnt more about writing fan fiction, I took it out, dusted it up, rechecked the grammar and punctuation and posted it. This is, hopefully, the final edit and posting!

UV1: The Visit

Jack looked down with affection at the form of his sleeping ex partner. He sat on the bed and considered the events that had brought him here. He remembered his first meeting with the Vampire who had been his contact in the counterfeiting job. Of course he'd not been aware of his true nature for some time, but had always been impressed by the man's smooth professionalism and competence. When he had discovered the truth he had been both frightened and excited, awed by the discovery that the creatures of myths actually existed.

Like the fraud, he had not mentioned anything to Michael aware that he would be both angry and confused at what he would see as a betrayal of his trust. He had though been confident of his ability to bring Michael around to some form of acceptance. He always had done so.

So life had carried on as usual, except for the thrilling encounters and the extra money in his bank account. He'd become engaged to Kirsty, well aware that Michael was in love with her, but again supremely confident that Michael would do nothing to hurt or ruin their friendship. He had been fond of Kirsty, he thought he'd loved her, but partly he knew he didn't want Michael and Kirsty as a pair. Somehow he felt that Michael would have settled too happily into cosy domesticity and that he would have, in some sense, lost him.

The call to cross over had come totally out of the blue and at a very inconvenient time, but he'd gone. His turning for help to Michael when he realised that the squad were after him was what he always did when in a fix and Michael had initially acted as he knew he would. What he hadn't reckoned with was Michael's determination to understand what was going on, and his being drawn into the squads clutches. He had entirely misjudged Michael's frightened reaction to him and had badly handled the whole affair in the playground. He couldn't recall if he had any awareness of the time before returning on the bridge but had looked into Michael's dejected eyes, and watched his collapse after their brief talk, and knew that Michael still cared.

He stretched slightly and thought how much he enjoyed what he had become, it suited his nature. What had astonished him though was the deep sense of loss he felt without Michael. He had never really examined his feelings for him; he had just always been there. Dependable, loyal, trustworthy Michael. He screwed his nose up at the words, god they made him sound dull and Michael was never dull, cynical, sarcastic and witty yes, dull no. A little too straight laced and narrow minded at times it must be admitted, with an annoying tendency to try and make him feel responsible for his actions, but one couldn't have everything. Michael had always been part of his life and he had assumed he always would be, just as he assumed that Michael's friendship and loyalty would always be his. The others had been amused at his confusion and had eventually agreed to him seeing Michael. He'd sensed that they too were interested in him, and not only because of his involvement with the squad.

So here he was, and he was going to have to be very careful how he handled this encounter. If it went well he thought he could persuade Michael. If Michael felt half the loss that he did, he was convinced that he could as usual charm his friend into doing what he wanted.

He reached forward, took the gun off the bedside cabinet then shook Michael. Michael grunted before sitting bolt upright. He looked at Jack and a smile of pleasure crossed his features.

"What's up?" he said, his smile slowly freezing to be replaced with a look of fear. His eyes flicked to the bedside cabinet returning swiftly to Jack's face.

Jack smiled back. "Hi Mike," he said, "I've come to say hello and to say I'm sorry."

A look of surprise and suspicion crossed Michael's face, he moved slightly away from Jack and passed his hands over his face. "I think I'm having an hallucination," he said slowly. "Did I hear the word 'sorry' cross your lips?"

Jack's smile increased and he placed his hand over his heart. "I'm wounded mate, yeah you heard the word sorry," He looked at his watchful friend, and grinned again. "Do you want to know what for?"

Michael leant back against the headboard and contemplated Jack for a few minutes in silence. His expression grew slightly less hostile and he nodded his head.

"Sorry for everything, Mike," Jack said slowly. "Sorry for taking you for granted, for abusing your trust and mostly for leaving you so frightened and lonely."

Michael took a sharp intake of breath. "You bastard," he said angrily, "you bastard, Jack, you never fucking change. Sorry! you ought to be fucking sorry. God you ought to be on your knees begging my forgiveness." He took another deep breath and turned his face.

Jack remained quiet, waiting for Michael's anger to run its course. There was silence in the room for some long minutes then Michael turned back to him and said slowly and passionately. "Why, Jack, for god's sake please tell me why?"

Jack ran his fingers through his hair and considered how he was going to phrase this. "It was the buzz the thrill at first," he said truthfully. "I told you I hadn't realised who I'd got involved with, but when I discovered it I was frightened but excited. Mike, I could see the potential the opportunities."

He risked a look at Michael's face. It was fixed on him, frozen and emotionless, he hurriedly continued. "I hadn't realised that I would be asked to cross over so quickly, least of all on the eve of my bloody wedding. I thought I had some years to plan and wait," he stopped and looked at Michael again. "and work out what I was going to tell you."

Michael blinked at the last part of Jack's speech. He then enquired very slowly "And Kirsty?"

Jack felt he was walking a tightrope; he looked at Michael and stayed silent few a few seconds. "Somehow, Mike, your understanding and acceptance seemed more important. I did care for her, I thought I loved her but..." he stopped and shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh now he bloody tells me," Michael said through gritted teeth. "Oh how convenient you shit, let me tell you that because of you I haven't even the pleasure of Kirsty's company," he stopped suddenly.

Jack kept his face still but inside he was smiling with satisfaction. Slowly, he thought, don't over reach yourself. "Mike," he said carefully, "Mike, I've missed you."

A look of affection flashed in Michael's eyes to be replaced by what Jack hoped was an attempt at indifference. "Your choice," he replied coldly.

Jack felt his initial triumph fading. He looked searchingly at Michael and thought hard then decided to risk opening himself up. "Mike, I mean it, I really have missed you," he swallowed unnecessarily then went for it. "I've never said this, I suppose I've never really thought it through clearly, but Mike, I do love you, you know."

Michael sat up from the headboard and looked in amazement at Jack then, to Jack's relief and slight indignation, gave a great shout of laughter. "Jack are you trying to seduce me?" he said breathlessly, wiping a stray tear from his eyes. "It won't work, I've watched you too many times and I know all the moves." He grinned again. "Now do I say," and he affected a high falsetto. "Oh Jack I never knew you cared, or is it, you're only saying it to get inside my pants?"

"You rotten bugger," said Jack in mock hurt, and they smiled at each other in genuine amusement and affection. Jack felt he could risk a bit more and reached out and touched Michael's hand, Michael shivered but made no attempt to move. "Mike," he said earnestly, "I'm still me, I'm still your friend, I still care and I still need you to be my best mate and partner."

Michael looked at him sadly, and shook his head. "Jack, given the chance I'd go for everything to be exactly as it was between us, 'cos if we're into honesty, I have to tell you I've missed you like hell." He sighed, looking carefully at Jack as he spoke, seeming to measure his words. "Let's not forget that, by your own choice, you are a Vampire, and I unfortunately, due to that choice, am a Vampire hunter." He smiled mirthlessly. 'My lot call you leeches by the way."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," Jack said thoughtfully. "What other fascinating things do 'your lot' say about us?"

Michael thought for a moment. "That you have no souls, and that you are monsters without feelings or emotions. Also that you want to destroy us."

"Mike, do I act as if I have no feelings or emotions, would I be here if I didn't bloody want to see you, hoping against hope that you will eventually be with me?"  
He snuck a look at Michael's face, it was thoughtful but open so he decided to get more forceful. "At this moment all I want to destroy is that bloody, deceitful lying bunch of bastards that caused all this mess with us in the first place."

Michael frowned, "They all have their own stories of loss due to your kind," he said some what coldly, "and remember, Jack, you brought this on yourself."

"Oh shut it Mike," Jack sighed, exasperated. "I've had enough morality checks for an evening, you haven't answered my question, am I a monster?"

"No, Michael said quickly, frowned, then began again. "No I don't think so, it would all be so much easier if you were, but I can't believe it. Pearse says," he stopped looking guilty at the mention of the name as Jack filed it away for future reference. "He says that you manipulate us, that you smooth talk us into believing you. He says that you are big on giving people free choice, but have ways of finding our weaknesses and desires. Jacob used Kirsty to manipulate me very successfully." He stopped looking searchingly at Jack. "Is that what you are doing to me, Jack?"

Jack looked Michael in the eyes and put as much sincerity in his expression and voice as he was able. "How can I answer that?" he asked. "If you think Mike, I've always tried and usually succeeded in getting you to do what I want, that's been the nature of our relationship. Of course I'm trying to influence you, haven't I made it plain that I don't want this life to be without you? What will you have me do, beg on my knees, grovel, beat my breast? I'll do them all if it means you will think about what I've said."

"Oh shit," Michael said quietly, and went very still.

Jack was amazed to see tears in his eyes.

"Oh shit," he repeated, even quieter as Jack reached for him pulling him into a tight embrace. Michael tried to fight him off, but Jack held on until Michael relaxed, accepting the embrace silently.

Jack held him for some minutes then gently let him go. Michael grimaced and lay back on the bed avoiding his gaze. Jack sat watching him in silence, surprised at how effective his honesty had been. This encounter has not gone as I planned, he thought, but somehow it has exceeded all my expectations.

"I knew this would have to happen, but I don't think I expected it to I be this painful or difficult," Michael finally said. "I've been so angry with you, when it would be so much easier and cleaner if I could just hate you. I've been dreading that when we finally met, I'd discover that everything I've been told about your kind was true, but then, assuming I survived the encounter, I knew I could finally be rid of you."

He sighed, rubbed his hands over his face, and sat back against the headboard. "Jack you have to go, I won't tell the squad you've been, and I can't kill you, but I can never become what you have become, so I think it would be easier for us both if we didn't meet again."

He turned away and Jack heard him murmur to himself. "I don't think I could bear it."

There was silence in the room. Jack got up from the bed and walked to the door. "Till the next time, Mike," he said, and silently to himself, "And next time I will not be leaving alone."

Continued in Part Two, Reflections.


	2. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaughan reflects, Jack acts. Pre Slash

Vaughan looked at Michael through his whisky glass, tipping the liquid to reflect the light. He sat staring into the distance, lying back into the chair, his face closed and troubled. They'd been talking about Angie and her family and Vaughan hoped that he'd managed to hide how he felt about her. He didn't get the impression that Michael was in a very perceptive mood, what he'd wanted to understand was Angie's husband motive in taking their then, five year old daughter. Vaughan had dismissed any attempt of his to ascribe human emotions to a Leech, and had finally got irritated by Michael's questioning telling him to shut the fuck up.

"Leeches are inhumane, unfeeling monsters Mike, for God's sake stop seeing them in any other light." he'd said, and Michael had shrugged his shoulders and stopped talking.

They'd sat like this for some time now, Vaughan was feeling pleasantly warmed by the whisky and not yet ready to make a move. Michael had told him he could kip on the sofa if he wanted to and despite the silence he felt reasonable comfortable and relaxed.

He looked at Michael again and considered how he felt about him. He'd been ready to kill him after the debacle on the bridge. Pearse had insisted that Michael take some time to consider his position and after a few days Michael had returned a little more hostile than previously, but quieter and less liable to mouth off. They'd slowly reclaimed their previous relationship, and Vaughan had begun to find Michael's muttered asides about Pearse amusing rather than irritating. His 'Witch finder General' tag had stuck and even Pearse had been known to smile at it.

Although Michael had never admitted it they knew he'd seen Jack some time after his 'resurrection'. Michael had seemed even more troubled one week and when Vaughan had taken him target shooting and had put Jack's silhouette up as target, Michael had gone very pale. They'd talked to him about keeping away from Jack, and Michael had agreed but Vaughan noticed that he kept his eyes lowered the whole time and seemed unable to look at them. Vaughan thought he understood, but he was impatient with Michael. Okay, he'd lost a good mate, but surely he could get his act together and leave him behind. Michael had tried to explain his feelings about Jack, how'd they been best mates for years, done practically everything together and how he now felt his absence even more acutely now he was 'alive'.

Vaughan had finally snapped, "God you're pitiful," he'd sneered. "It sounds like you're talking about your fucking lover rather than a mate. I seem to remember you fancied his fiancée didn't you? Not very matey, I also remember dear Jack was pulling a scam that didn't seem to take account of you, and despite all that lovey dovey matiness you were the one who killed him."

Michael had looked close to tears at this point and kept rubbing his hands across his face. He'd remained silent for some minutes, Vaughan had been about to speak when Pearse had caught his eye and shook his head. Vaughan had been amused by the look of priestly concern he'd glimpsed in Pearce's face, and had turned back to Michael.

Michael had swallowed, looked up at them then returned his gaze to the table.   
"Jack was far too arrogant in his assumption of my unquestioning loyalty," he said slowly. "I didn't go there to kill him, god all I thought I'd wanted was to understand, but you lot had really spooked me."   
He took a deep breath before continuing, his gaze firmly fixed on the surface of the polished table surface.   
"This was my friend Jack in front of me and suddenly he scared me. When he calmly told me I would help willingly or unwillingly and also threatened Kirsty I saw red."

"Kirsty?" prompted Pearse. "I don't think you've ever managed to explain that cosy threesome."

Vaughan saw Michael's involuntary flinch at the repetition of her name, watching fascinated, as he traced a pattern on the table, glanced up at Pearse, then shrugged his shoulders in apparent resignation.

"Jack was a smooth talking bastard who was at it like a rabbit with anyone that took his fancy," he said quietly. "He calmed down a lot after he'd met Kirsty but not before I'd fallen for her myself, and despite the fact that he was my best mate, I felt strongly that she deserved better from Jack."

"You mentioned this to Jack?" Vaughan asked, fascinated despite himself.

Michael laughed somewhat bitterly, "Jack always called me his annoying little conscience." .

The subject has been allowed to drop although Michael had enquired sarcastically if everyone was to undergo these little confessionals and had been even more of a pain in the arse than usual for a couple of days. Vaughan often felt like dropping Michael off the top of a tall building when he got really shitty, but generally managed to ignore his moodiness.

What was very clear to them all was that they worked better with someone of Michael's ability alongside. Pearse had further suggested that Michael's unwillingness to see Leech involvement in everything, and his constant questioning of the squads motives, made them a better and more focused team.

The squad had been rubbing along better in the past few weeks. Angie's look of anguished loss had lessened. Pearse's medication was being sorted out and Michael had seemed more relaxed and less angry and had taken up with Frances again.

Vaughan had been pleased when Michael had started seeing Frances, he liked and approved of her. He'd thought that she might knock some sense into Michael and stop him brooding so much. He knew Michael was angry with Pearse for trying to get her to join the squad, but as he'd told him, that was his fault for involving her in the first place. Frances had seriously considered it, but it had eventually been agreed that she could be could be just as effective where she was, so she was staying put for the time being.

He'd asked Michael why they'd separated, Michael had thought for some time and said possibly because she disapproved of Jack, disliked Kirsty and it had become too much of a strain on their relationship. Vaughan had hardly managed to hide his irritation at the mention of Jack, and had finally asked Michael how the hell he and Jack had ever been friends. Michael had looked at him thoughtfully, and nodded as if he understood.

"It was the difference that made us a great pair," he'd answered.

Vaughan didn't understand and said so.

"He led I'd follow, but slowly so that he have to wait for me to catch up, and in doing so sometimes I could make him think again."

Michael had gone quiet for a second, and Vaughan was just about to irritably tell him that he was talking bullshit, when he continued.

"You should have seen him with the ladies," he'd chuckled softly. "He charmed the pants off them, I dried their tears, held their hands, listened to their woes and fell in love with them. God it was fun."

Vaughan sighed, returning slowly to the present and brought the glass up to his eyes again, he glanced at the motionless Michael, looked at the clock and deciding that sofa or not, it was too late, and he was too drunk to leave, settled further into the armchair allowing his thoughts to drift…

He awoke with a start, cold and uncomfortable. Michael was still on the sofa, his eyes closed breathing slowly. Vaughan shivered and rubbed his arms and was about to get up when he suddenly sensed danger. He froze, and listened, hearing nothing but Michael's steady breathing. Slowly he reached for his gun, but just as he touched its reassuring surface he was grabbed around the throat and lifted off the ground. Clawing helplessly at the hands around his neck he felt everything go black, but just as he was about to loose consciousness, the hands slackened and he was thrown back in the chair. He tried to resist as his hands and feet were bound, nearly choking on the gag thrust deep into his mouth.

A voice whispered in his ear, "Consider yourself lucky soldier, if Mike wasn't present I'd have killed you without a thought." and knew with a sickening certainty who it was.

Vaughan watched Jack walk towards the sofa; Michael had been roused by the noise of the struggle and was rubbing sleep from his eyes when he caught sight of Jack. Vaughan saw him gasp and grab frantically at his gun, pointing it, with two very shaky hands, towards Jack, his eyes flicking to Vaughan and back to Jack.

Jack stopped and opened his arms towards Michael.   
"Mike, you disappoint me, I thought we'd agreed last time that you weren't going ot kill me."

Vaughan watched in angry incomprehension, as Jack walked towards Michael, pulling the gun out of his unresisting hands, and disdainful tossing it aside. His frustration and anger increased as he watched Michael stand passively, his head bowed and his eyes closed, as Jack placed his jacket around his shoulders, cuffed his arms behind his back and pulled him into an embrace.

Vaughan shut his eyes in despair, slowly opening them to find Jack's eyes on him; a triumphant smile on his lips as he slowly bent to Michael's bared neck and gently bit him. Michael shuddered but made no sound. Jack looked again at Vaughan, and then cupped Michael's face in his hands.

"Mike and I have a lot of talking to do and some friends to meet, haven't we Mike?" he said addressing his remarks to Vaughan, "but before we go I have a few words for you to pass on."

He gently pushed Michael down onto the sofa arm, and walked towards Vaughan. Vaughan tensed with fear and loathing, flinching as Jack leant towards him.

"You murdering bastards lost Mike the moment he brought me back," he murmured. "Mike's mine, where I lead he follows. You lot did you're best to poison him against me, but we have too much history going for us for him to stop caring."   
He was silent for a second then with passion in his voice, continued.   
"You can tell that priest of yours that we monsters can love, and more to the point we can hate."   
He looked long and hard at Vaughan, then lowered his eyes to Vaughan's neck and licked his lips hungrily.  
"I hope I give you nightmares," he said with a laugh, moving back to Michael.

Vaughan watched Jack lead Michael to the door, Michael turned to him and Vaughan looked back hoping his eyes conveyed the contempt he felt.

Michael smiled sadly, his eyes sunken and defeated, but worse to Vaughan was the look of acceptance in them.

"Tell Pearse I'm sorry, I tried but …" he faltered then started again. "I'm truly sorry," he repeated quietly, turned and left.

 

Continued in Part 3, The Prisoner


	3. The Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gets what he wants. (warning non/coerced con)

Michael sat in the car stunned by the events that had just taken place. God I'm a fool he thought bitterly, what am I doing here? He looked at Jack; he was driving with his usual nonchalance a smile of pleasure lighting up his features.

"Jack?" Michael said hesitantly. "Where are we going, and why have you handcuffed me?"

Jack glanced at Michael and grinned, "You'll see, Mikey my love."

"Don't call me that," Michael said sharply, "You've never done so before and I don't like it."

"Which upsets you the most?" mused Jack almost to himself. "The Mikey or the love, I wonder?"

Michael flushed and didn't reply. The journey continued, Michael wasn't sure where they where, he had hardly been concentrating when Jack had set off in the car and he found it hard to get his bearings. The car came to halt outside a nondescript detached house and Michael watched as the door of the adjoining garage slowly swung up and Jack drove into the darkness of its interior. He switched the engine off and lay back in his seat, turning towards Michael.

"This is where you find out," Jack said, moving out of the car at such speed that he was opening the door at Michael's side before Michael had even registered his absence. Michael blinked, suddenly frightened by his friend.

"Come on, Mike,"

Jack pulled him out of the car in one smooth move, holding him by his elbows and pushing him towards to the door at the end of the garage. Michael stumbled forward, off balance and thoroughly bewildered, as he was guided through the kitchen and down steep sparsely lit steps into a basement.

A single bare bulb, hanging slightly off-centre, barely illuminated the room, its dim light shining on a room furnished like a bed-sitter. A TV and video prominent in one corner, a few books and magazines bundled on a shelf in another and a hot plate on a shelf next to the sink. Jack pushed him towards the bed and he sat down with a thump. He looked up at Jack who was watching him with a look of glee on his face. Michael's heart sank. Whatever Jack had planned he had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

"The cuffs please, Jack," he pleaded.

Jack smiled, sat down on the bed and turned to Michael's manacled hands. His relief as he heard the lock unclick was immediately replaced with confusion as he was hauled up the bed and manacled to the bed head. He lay on his back looking up at Jack in anger and bewilderment.

"What the hell do you think you are up to?" he asked angrily. "Jack, just stop screwing me around and let me up."

"Don't be silly, Mike," Jack smirked, taking Michael's head in his hands and kissing him hard on the mouth. Michael was stunned into a complete silence that continued until Jack started to remove his shoes.

"Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" he yelled, pulling desperately at the cuffs.

Jack paused, looking down at him, a patronising grin on his face. "You're the detective, Mike, deduce, I think I'm giving you enough clues."

Mike shook his head in disbelief. "Jack, for Pete's sake, stop."

Jack grinned, shaking his head. "Nope, I've been thinking about doing this for some time, even before I became a Vampire I was curious." He looked back at Michael inquiringly. "You're not going to tell me you never wondered what it would be like?"

Michael took a deep breath. "You're going to have to spell 'it' out for me, Jack," he said far more calmly that he felt.

Jack laughed, his hands going to Michael's belt, undoing the buckle. Michael hissed with panic as his hands slowly pulled down the zip on his jeans.

"Getting any more clues here, mate?"

Jack's voice was mocking, his eyes glittering and somehow dangerous. He yanked sharply on the jeans, pulling them down as Michael kicked and fought him, somehow making little impact. His briefs went the same way, while his tee shirt was ruthlessly torn off him.

Jack looked at the torn garment, and shrugged. "Sorry, mate, get another one for you, just getting a little impatient." He stood back from the bed, and gazed down at Michael. "You look good, Mike. Noticed the girls checking you out, after they'd checked me of course. Always thought we made a good pair, you dark, handsome and brooding, me pure sex on legs and charisma."

Michael felt a blush creeping across his face, the embarrassment and shock making his angry and scared. "Stop fucking with me, you bastard," he spat. "You've seen me naked before, and don't tell me you got all horny looking at me, it was the birds for you, all the time. God you were flirting with that WPC on your damn stag night."

Jack laughed, sitting back on the bed, "Of cause it was, Mike. The birds, Kirsty, sex and fun. Come on mate, how would a queer gone down in the Met? Like a fucking lead balloon that's how."

"I don't believe you," Michael said slowly. "I was your best mate, we did everything together, I would have known."

"Didn't know about the Vampires or the money, did you, Mike?" Jack jeered. "Oh don't get me wrong, I love the birds, it's just I always had a yen to discover what sex was like with a bloke, but because of the job I never dared try." He ran his hand up Michael's leg, grinning as an involuntary shiver shuddered through Michael's body. "Now, I don't have to bother about human morals, I go for what I want, and I want you, Mike, all of you."

"No," Michael said forcefully. "No, I won't, I don't want to."

"I don't believe you, Mike," Jack ran his hand over Mike torso. "I think you knew exactly what I wanted from the start, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise."

He leant down and nuzzled Michael's neck, licking lovingly at his quivering pulse, his other hand sliding slowly down until it touched his flaccid penis. Michael jumped, bucking as the hand began to stroke and squeeze, disbelief mixing with panic as he felt himself respond and become erect. Shit, he thought, Jack's wrong, I don't want this, I'm not attracted to him, he's my best mate, he's, oh god... he groaned involuntarily as Jack began kissing and nibbling at him.

"No," he whispered, "stop, please, Jack."

Jack's kissing became more intense, as he slowly moved up his neck to nibble at Michael's bottom lip. "Come on, Mike I'll make it good," he murmured in his ear. "I'm a guy, I know what works for you, just relax, go with the flow let me do the work." He dropped a kiss on Michael's tightly closed eyes, and had stripped before Michael managed to open them. He grinned down at him, and began to work his way along Michael's body.

Michael gritted his teeth, the pleasure he was getting from the gentle stroking of his erection fighting with his anger and panic. A bite at his nipple made him jump, another bite made him moan and whimper.

"Bet the birds never did this, Mike," a throaty whisper tickled his ear. "Especially that cold cow, Francis."

Another bite and then chewing made him moan even deeper, his angry response to Jack's insinuations getting loss in the pleasure his body was receiving. He was losing it. He was hardly aware as Jack shifted until his almost painful erection was swallowed and he screamed. The sensations from the hand at his nipples and Jack's mouth sucking him off, were so intense that he was oblivious to the hand groping at his arse until he felt a finger invade his anus. He stiffened, but the invasion continued until it became subsumed in the other sensations, swamping his body with pure unadulterated pleasure. He moaned and cried out, finally surrendering to the inevitable, shocked at the excitement twitching down his body. The finger thrusting up into him, touching something that sent an electric shock through his groin. He groaned pushing his hips down desperate to repeat the sensation, hearing a muffled laugh as he did so.

He knew he was lost now, he just wanted this, he wanted it so badly, and he didn't want it to end. He undulated his hips and pushed down hard screaming with pleasure as the same sensation rushed up his spine. He pushed his erection into Jack's mouth, pulling continuously at the cuffs desperate to have use of his hands so he could touch, guide and fully participate. A swirl of Jack's tongue over his penis, and he was gone, screaming Jack's name as he exploded and came. He lay, almost comatosed, feeling Jack swarm up his body and latch onto his lips, and this time he opened them allowing Jack possession. He rocked with Jack, slumberous and sated, as Jack pushed against him until he too came, shouting, "Mike," triumphantly.

They lay there for some minutes, bodies entwined, Jack's lips covering his mouth, his tongue gently exploring. A relaxation of his cramped shoulders let him know his wrists had been released from their shackles. He shrugged his neck getting the kinks out of the cramped muscles as his hands, almost involuntary, moved down to grasp Jack's head.

Jack twisted, turning their bodies until he was on top looking down at Michael, a happy and very smug expression on his face. "It was good, wasn't it Mike, very good, the best."

Michael froze, reality sandbagging him with the knowledge that not only he just had sex, great sex admittedly, with a man, but to make matters worse he'd done it with a Code V. He groaned piteously, remembering the fervent kissing around his neck, and shuddered, trying to think straight.

Jack's hands engulfed him, moving him onto his side cradling him and stroking murmuring what seemed, unbelievably, to be words of endearment. Michael felt like crying with misery shaken at how his friend had so abused his trust. I'm so stupid, he thought painfully, I wanted him back with me so much that I just never once really considered what he might have planned for me. He felt the anger and pain building up in him.

"You bastard, Jack," he muttered hoarsely. "You selfish, fucking bastard." His grief swelled up in him and to his horror he began crying, first silently then with abandonment.

Jack held him rocking and soothing him, making no attempt at justifications. Slowly Michael regained his self-control, opening his eyes to look up at Jack, who looked down at him with some concern.

"OK I'm a selfish bastard Mike," he acknowledged. "But I wasn't lying when I said I loved you back in your bedroom, those few months ago. I told you then, I wanted you and I was determined to have you."

"Love, what the fuck do you know about love?" Mike asked harshly, his anger making his voice shake. He swallowed, "What about what I want, Jack, do you give a fuck about what I want?"

Jack was silent for a brief moment, shaking his head, a wry grin on his lips. "Yes, Mike, as long as it coincides with what I want. I told you I wanted you with me when we last met, surely you know me well enough to be certain I'd make damn sure that's just what I got?"

Michael shook his head. "I don't think I know you at all," he replied with feeling. "My Jack wouldn't have done this to me."

"I am your Jack, idiot," Jack sounded annoyed. "You're a stiff necked old prude, Mike my love."

"I'm not a fucking prude," Michael snarled, angrily. "I've just been raped by my supposed best friend, you tell me how the hell I'm supposed to deal with it."

"I didn't rape you I seduced you, Mike," Jack said sweetly. "You were certainly with me at the end my love, or did I imagine you screaming my name?"

Michael went red with embarrassment and turned away from Jack to hide his face in his hands. I don't know how to deal with this he thought shakily. God I'm a stupid fool, why have I been so blind, why can't I think straight, why can't I just hate the fucking bastard and have done with it? Why despite it all do I still care? Is it because I know in some sense that he's right? He stayed quiet for some minutes trying to get his thoughts in order, trying to absorb what Jack had said.

"Well Mike?" enquired Jack after the silence had dragged on for another minute. "Have you decided what lecture to give me this time, I do so enjoy some of them. Come on Mike snap out of it, I enjoyed it, you enjoyed it, so what the hell is wrong with you?"

Mike sat up and faced Jack in fury. "Shall I tell you what was really wrong," he said, his voice shaking with the effort of keeping it controlled. "I knew I was behaving like a bloody idiot when I let you bring me here, so in some sense I suppose I deserve what I got, but why force me Jack? Why not talk with me, explain, ask, wheedle, persuade or bully like you normally do so fucking well? Anything but force me." he ended abruptly, his whole body trembling with the anger he felt.

Jack pulled Michael towards himself and looked him over with some concern. "Would you have said yes?" he asked with some pleasure. "Would you, Mike?"

"No," Michael said automatically, before lowering his head, finally acknowledging the truth. "I don't know, yes perhaps, oh god what do I know?" he said wearily.

"I suppose I could have tried please, or pretty please," Jack said lightly.

Despite himself Michael gave a short laugh. "Then I would have definitely known something out of the ordinary was going to happen," he said sarcastically.

Jack grinned, "Now that's my Mike. Do you know one of the things I've always loved about you is your sarcastic wit?" He looked sideways at Mike. "It's been in short supply tonight."

Michael drew a deep breath before attempting a reply "I'm reduced to 'fuck you' at present," he retorted, "but give me time and I'm sure I'll be back to my normal bouncing self."

Jack laughed, moving off the bed and starting to dress. "I'm hungry Mike," he said in explanation, laughing as Michael's face went pale. "Not you idiot, I'm off to find a snack."

"Well I am reassured," Michael said sarcastically. "Wouldn't tell poor Mikey a lie would we, Jack."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Jack said piously.

Michael looked at him in disbelief, before smiling wryly in appreciation. He watched Jack dress then asked. "OK, Jack what next? I've told you I can't be what you are. I'm screwed with the squad, but don't think that means I'm telling you anything about them, so you tell me what next?"

Jack grinned as he stood by the door, "Just you wait, Mike," he said grinnin., "Oh, and don't bother to dress, I've got lots more things I want us to explore tonight when I return."

He threw back his head and laughed, as Michael reddened in embarrassment, shocked to feel his, supposedly satiated, penis, twitch with renewed interest.

"Don't worry, I won't keep you waiting too long." He blew him a kiss and vanished.

Michael heard the door click shut as Jack left. He listened for a minute then rose from the bed and walked towards it. It was locked, as he'd expected, and a moment's scrutiny convinced him that he wasn't going to be able to pick it open. He searched round the room looking with failing hope for alternative points of access, but finding nothing. This was a basement, no windows and no doors other than the one that Jack had left by.

He sat down again on the bed and sighed very deeply. I'm in deep shit here he thought, Jack has the upper hand, and somehow I feel he is going to wring every drop of enjoyment he can from it. I'm tired, hungry, cold and so bloody screwed. My whole life has just been turned upside down, and I'm lost.

He climbed onto the bed, pulling the duvet tightly around him, blocking out the light. He didn't want to switch it off; the thought of total darkness somehow frightened him too much. Please let this all be a dream, he whispered to himself, shutting his eyes tightly. Images of the last half hour flickered across his eyelids, making him toss and turn in muddled desire and frustration. Don't leave me, hold me, Jack, he heard himself murmur, as slowly he drifted off into a troubled and restless sleep.

 

Continued in Part 4, Elucid


	4. Elucidation?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael discovers his fate.

"What an amazing selection," Michael said in deep disgust, rummaging through the groceries in front of him. "Where the hell did you get these, some reject food store?"

Jack looked down in amusement at his friend. He was sat on the floor, his back leaning against the side of the armchair, his feet sprawled out in front of him exploring the contents of the carrier bag Jack had just deposited in front of him. Every time Jack returned he could guarantee he'd find Michael either asleep on sat like this. Michael preferred sofas, he liked to lay in them and relax, he always maintained that with his length armchairs were just plain uncomfortable. Jack had just thought he was a lazy sod and said so frequently, especially as Michael often didn't bother to get up to go to bed, but fell asleep where he lay, particularly after one of their drinking sessions.

"Best I could do, mate," he said casually, "I don't like those bright lit supermarkets, so it's a nice little dark corner shop for me."

Michael looked at him quizzically, "I wonder if you pay them?" he asked and then returned hurriedly to finding something he could eat in response to Jack's broad grin.

Jack continued watching him. He'd thoroughly enjoyed this past week with Michael. Had he known how damn passionate Michael was he would have seduced him years ago, although he had to admit the chances of him succeeding then would have been poor. Even now, despite the evidence of their mutual desire, Michael was still struggling to come to terms with everything, and, if Jack had been willing to allow himself regret, he knew that given a second chance his first time with Michael would have been slower, and less forceful.

He shrugged mentally, what was done was done. He had what he wanted, Michael as his willing lover and, to be honest, watching his friend's reaction to his confinement and the stages he'd gone through to reach this resigned, but affectionate attitude towards himself had been absolutely fascinating. He had been amused by the anger and bitterness, aroused by the pleading, something Michael had been slow to recognise but made rather effective use of now, but a little uneasy with the fortunately brief period of misery and lassitude that Michael had sunk into at the beginning. He had never seen his friend like that before and he didn't want to again.

"Must be something there," he declared moving to crouch down by the bag. "I was fast but I was sure I'd netted a few appetizing things." He picked up a tin of cat food and shook his head in disbelief. "Well maybe I was a little slapdash," he admitted.

Michael took the tin off him and laughed. "You're bloody hopeless," he said affectionately. "Come to think of it you were never very efficient at getting the meals when we were on a job. Somehow, like everything else, it got left to me, and thank god too if this would have been the result." He got up holding a tin, found the can opener, and decanted the contents into a small saucepan before placing it on the hot plate to warm through.

"No problem now,"' Jack said easily, watching for Michael's almost subliminal shudder as he absorbed Jack's meaning.

Jack had hoped that Michael would ask more questions about how crossing over had changed him, but except for comments on his behaviour he had appeared totally disinterested. Jack knew that it was all a front. In the shower yesterday he'd again watched in amusement as Michael had been unable to stop staring at the way the water appeared to flow over him, not touching him, not wetting him. Michael had held his arm and moved it through the water absolutely fascinated by the effect. "You don't smell either do you?' he'd asked, "nothing seems to stick to you." and then as quickly had let Jack's arm fall and returned to washing himself.

Michael turned the saucepan contents onto a plate and picking up a fork, flopping back down into his previous position and began to eat. "I'm going to die of malnutrition at this rate," he grumbled holding out the contents towards Jack. "Go on try it, see what unspeakable yuk you force feed me."

Jack placed a minute piece on his finger and lifted it to his mouth. The mere smell made him want to retch, but he had taught himself to take in small amounts of food for appearance sake when out netting informers and moving in for the bite. "I'll take your word for it, Mike," he said, smiling. "Not really suitable to my palate, as you well know."

Michael ate a little more then put his plate down and turned to face Jack. "Jack," he began, sighed then continued. "Jack, when are you going to let me go, you can't hold me forever. I know you are trying to wage a war of attrition, but I'm not going to change my mind."

Jack looked at him in amusement "My, Mike, been swallowing a dictionary whilst I'm out?"

"I have little else to do but think," Michael shrugged his shoulders, "and I've delivered these speeches to you in my head numerous times, so they are getting to be rather eloquent."

"I must spend more time with you," Jack laughed. "I thought I kept you pretty occupied." He grinned, as Michael blushed. "Come and sit on the bed," he continued reaching out to pull him up. "It's more comfortable."

Michael shook his head firmly. "We stay here," he said with great patience. "Come on sit down and stop avoiding the question, you've got to answer it. You may be almost immortal, I however am human and have a life to live. I don't want your 'life' away from the light and warmth of the sun. I don't particularly want to die either, but I'm young, I've hopefully got a lot of life ahead of me to enjoy." He looked at the silent watching Jack. "Despite, or if I'm honest, perhaps because of all that has happened here, I want you in my life, but it isn't possible is it, Jack? Humans are your prey, your food source, an occasional interlude to amuse yourself with but always your inferior and for all I know soon to be done away with."

Jack sat down slowly and looked at Michael thoughtfully. Michael had asked to be let free every day, but this was the first time he'd really spelled out his understanding of the facts so coherently. They could not really be argued with. He had wanted to avoid this discussion because he didn't want to face Michael with his ultimate fate, and to be honest it would probably spoil the fun he'd been having with him. "Mike, why don't you ask me all those questions about what I've become, that you've been studiously not asking," he said seriously.

Michael leaned further back onto the chair and sighed. "Because I'm sure I'll only get the sales pitch not the truth," he answered bitterly. "I know you of old, Jack, and this new you is similar to the old one but even more indifferent to the truth."

"You do say the most charming things, my love," said Jack thoughtfully. "I sometimes wonder why you became my friend the way you talk about me?"

Michael looked at him with affection and laughed "Cut the crap." he said cheerfully, "You know why, it's the charm you still have in bucket loads, so stop fishing for compliments."

Jack grinned then returned to the question. "Come on, Mike, satisfy your curiosity, it won't harm you. I'll try and be as honest as I can be."

"That's like a skunk saying he will try and smell sweet," retorted Michael ducking as Jack aimed a blow at his head.

"Can it!" Jack grinned at him before returning to the offensive. "Come on, ask." He watched Michael as he sat studying the carpet, his face thoughtful.

"You drink blood," Michael stated the obvious.

Jack nodded patiently, at least it was a start.

"What does it do to you?" Michael continued.

"It fills a great desire and hunger," Jack shivered as he spoke. "It's almost the most satisfying thing of crossing. The feel of that blood rushing into your veins and arteries is so exciting and fulfilling, you feel so alive."

"Yet you are so dead," Michael said flatly. "Jack you don't breathe, your heart doesn't pump, you don't need to blink or cough, you don't cry. I've never seen you shave or comb your hair; yet you always look the same. You don't appear to feel the heat or the cold. I don't understand how you can still experience love and passion but I know you can. You continue to act as if you were human most of the time, but it must be different." He stopped suddenly looking a little scared.

"I feel different," said Jack softly. "Everything is so exciting. I can see in the dark as well as you can see in the light and the dark is as comforting to me as the sun is for you. I look at you and I can see an aura around you that identifies you. I can sense some of your thoughts and emotions."

"Do you have an aura?" Michael asked with sudden interest. "Was it what I saw in the shower, is that why we can't see you on video, in mirrors or hear you on the phone? Do you not transmit anything of yourself? Are you essentially sealed off?" He stumbled to a halt as Jack placed a hand over his mouth.

"Oh Mike," Jack grinned, "its all or none with you isn't it. I'm sorry but I don't know much yet. Some of the others have spent time investigating who and what we are, and from where we originated but I haven't had a chance to meet them. I can only tell you what I experience, and that is that I am faster and stronger. I can fade into the night and somehow fade through doors and windows when I need to. I hear and see better than before and I am more aware of everything." He smiled. "It beats being human, it's the thrill, the power and the blood I suppose."

There was silence for a time as Michael seemed to absorb what Jack had said. He looked up at Jack and shook his head.  
"I don't understand, you talk about the others, those of your kind. I've never seen you with another leech, not that I suppose I could tell, but how do you communicate, who leads you, who is in charge?" Michael stopped and looked uncertain. "Can you tell me that kind of thing?"

"Not really," Jack said lazily. "I'm not sure I understand myself. I just know that there are rules, and these have been formed over hundreds of years of enmity and discord. We are obliged to follow them or suffer the consequence."

"You've always bucked the bloody rules ever since I've known you," Michael said in disbelief. "You managed it on the Met, don't tell me you have changed that much."

Jack grinned, "Don't worry, Mike,'" he said cheerfully. "These are sensible rules of survival to which I am happy to subscribe, and anyway, I enjoy my role in the game."

"Which is?"

"Information gathering," Jack grinned, "and do you know, Mike, it's so much more fun doing it this way," and he licked his lips, "than our previous way."

"I really don't want to know," Michael said unhappily and shuddered.

"But you do," Jack contradicted him, reaching forward and carding his hand through Michael's hair. "I fascinate you don't I? I can see it in the way you look at me sometimes, you want to know and you want to understand. You didn't buy the squads take on us, which is why you found it so hard to resist me."

Michael paled. He closed his eyes and was silent briefly before gently removing Jack's hand, and hunching forward, arms wrapped tightly round his knees. "By not asking you, I keep managing to forget just how frightening and threatening you really are," he said with effort. "You are so much like my Jack, yet so alien in some senses. Yes you do fascinate me, but it's the kind of fascination the snake has for its prey, very dangerous and stupid to get caught up in."

Jack smiled at him and reached forward to hold his friend's hands. "My poor, Mike," he said gently. "I was so excited and curious, you are scared and frightened. You see the darkness I saw the opportunities. Please, Mike just for once try and see it from my point of view."

Michael looked at him silently, slowly shaking his head. "I've tried," he said quietly. "I really have tried, but then the whole thing terrifies me. it seems to engage with that primeval fear that many of us have for the dark unknown." He pulled his hands away from Jack and sat up back. "I know I'm going to miss you and I'm going to have to re think my life and career, but the choice is join you or lose you. Since I can't even comprehend how I could make the choice to cross over, you must let me go."

Jack got up and walked to the door, opening it, he looked at Michael who sat up, an expression of hope battling with fear and anticipated loss. "Mike," he said from the doorway, "you can leave now, but I will not let you go far before I track you down. I know you totally, I can sense and smell you from a distance, and you can never hide from me. Does that answer your question? You've asked me what is it like to cross over and now I have to tell you that you will soon find out yourself. I am informed that you have always been considered one of us, and so have absolutely no choice in the matter."

Jack watched as Michael's face slowly went ashen. He closed the door and moved back to sit by his side then reached out to comfort him finding that Michael was trembling. He looked into Michael's terrified eyes and held him tight.  
"I don't know that you'll believe me," he whispered, kissing him gently on his cheek. "But I'm sorry it had to be like this, Mike. If only I could have persuaded you it would have been so much easier."

Michael sat immobile, his eyes wide and staring, his body continuing to shiver.

Jack kissed him again, "Don't worry, Mike, I'll be with you, by your side, forever." He licked at Michael's throat, before descending on the quivering lips below him, his concern flowing into desire. "Let me make love to you," he asked, returning to kiss Mike's lips. Michael sighed and Jack pounced, pushing his tongue in to the quivering mouth. He pushed at the tall, lean body, feeling the slow surrender, as Michael lay down, opened his lips, and reached for him.

"Together, Mike, we'll be together," he whispered, rubbing against Michael's taut body, triumph and pleasure meeting, as he felt Michael's arousal, and heard the change in his breathing. "Together," he murmured once more, and fell on his lover's unresisting, compliant body.

Continued in Part 5, Regrets


	5. Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Squad discover what happened to Michael.

Vaughan walked into the briefing room, sat down and sighed. "These late nights are getting a bit of a killer," he remarked to no one in particular.

Pearse looked up from the report in front of him. "Bit of a wild goose chase I gather," he agreed, "that's the second in two weeks."

Vaughan shrugged. "Win some lose some," he said tiredly."

"Anything further to report?" Pearse asked.

"Not really," Vaughan replied thoughtfully, rubbing his hands across his eyes. "It was a safe house, but it looked like it had been deserted for some time, so unfortunately we've not really screwed anything up for them." His eyes narrowed. "There was something very interesting though. One of my men found a letter of sorts. He noticed my name on it and passed it straight on to me." He held out a dirty folded sheet of paper. "I think all of us should read it, you know I never thought I'd hear my self say this but I actually feel sorry for the stupid bastard."

Pearse, Angie and Frances looked at him.

"Its from Mike, isn't it," Frances said, her voice shaking slightly.

Vaughan nodded, "He mentions all of us in it," he sighed. "He's a leech now so no point in feeling anything for him, but read it, I don't think it was meant to be found, he must have hidden it before they crossed him over"

Pearse picked up the paper and walked to the centre of the room. He looked at Frances and Angie and in a measured voice began to read.

I have lost track of time since Jack brought me to this place. It feels like months but I sense that perhaps only a week has actually passed. I am kept locked in one of their safe houses and I can't tell where I am. I can hear traffic moving faintly in the distance but otherwise nothing.

When Jack is not with me I have little to do to pass the time, I cannot concentrate to read and the videos make me restless, so I think. Mostly I think what a naïve stupid fool I was to believe that I could come with Jack and be allowed to leave. Not that I was consciously thinking that when Jack came for me, I just remember feeling helpless. Jack and I had said all there was to say between us the first time he came. I had been moved by what he said and surprised at how sincere he appeared to be, but despite my longing to have him back in my life even I knew that it was impossible. When time passed and he did not reappear I started picking up my life and seeing Frances. She will be as angry and contemptuous of me as Vaughan is. I am sorry I've hurt her yet again as I really do care for her.

Frances has always mistrusted and disliked Jack and hated the influence she felt he had over me. Jack had to be the leader from the beginning of our friendship, and I was happy to go along with him. He got us into trouble when we were at college, but it was usually such fun that I'd be stupid enough to listen to him again and off we'd go. Don't get me wrong, I was never a pushover. It used to amuse me listening to Jack's lies, half-truths and sheer blarney, but unless I was totally opposed to something he'd get around me. He'd feel satisfied that he'd got his own way, I'd have enjoyed the performance and dropped a few cutting remarks on his lack of responsibility. We both came away satisfied.

I never knew that Jack was on the take, I would have been horrified. I still can't work out how he thought he was going to get away with it, but Jack has always had an amazing ability to ignore awkward facts, that's been my responsibility. It still angers me that he was happy to marry Kirsty and presumably not tell her either, but that's Jack for you. What I haven't worked out is whether the leeches draw him in specifically or whether his involvement was a happy coincidence.

Pearse has always talked about the leeches saying that they only took people of their own free will. Yet again I was stupid enough to believe this, although I had problems with Angie's husband taking their 5-year-old daughter. Free will is something that I am not to be permitted, although Jack has used every trick in the book and a few I'd never thought of to persuade me. He assures me that he has not bitten or fed on me to further influence me, but Jack's assurances ring rather hollow. Apparently the leeches have always considered me one of them. When Jack first told me this I was speechless. Whilst I've never been a dewy eyed innocent, I couldn't believe that I'd ever done anything to warrant their attention. Jack wouldn't explain, but yesterday, I think it was yesterday, a female leech came to see me and introduced herself as my mother. I'm looking at this woman of about my age and realise I've seen pictures of her at home, and recognised my dead aunt. To cut a long and rather horrifying story short, she is my mother. She had a leech lover at the same time as my dad. When she fell pregnant with me, her lover persuaded her to cross over just before I was due to be born. Apparently I was in her womb briefly after she crossed and was successfully removed by her attendants and left for my dad. She says she has followed my life with interest and she and the others have always planned to take me. They believe that I may be special! I find myself hoping that I thoroughly disappoint them, I have never felt myself to be different in any way. I took vindictive pleasure in reminding her that I was hunting leeches like her until recently, but she dared to stroke me on the cheek and tell me we all make mistakes. I find it hard to believe that a mother could do that to her baby, and when she was human, but perhaps she was good leech material. My real mum, birth mother or not, is actually my aunt, and I'd always thought what an ordinary family we were!

I am still recovering from that shock. All my pathetic hopes that I could persuade Jack to let me free on condition I left the squad and lived elsewhere are shattered. I can't really blame Jack; he thought he was following his own agenda when he was dancing to someone else's tune. I don't think he enjoyed discovering that.

My time spent with Jack has convinced me that Pearse is both horribly wrong and horribly right. Leeches do appear to love and hate, or rather lust and desire, since love is meant to be selfless. That being so they are monstrous because they are totally amoral and willing to get want they want at any cost. In his own twisted way Jack does love me, but for his sake not mine. Jack assures me that he loves his 'life' and that I will too when I leave guilt and remorse behind me. Jack has certainly achieved that, but then he had little time for those emotions when he was human.

Having read through this letter I know I mean it to be an apology to the Squad. Vaughan was right not to trust me, not because I would have betrayed them, though I suppose I will, but because I was unable to resist Jack.

Jack has just returned and read my letter, he is amused by my feelings, but then Jack seems to be amused by nearly all I do at present. I think he'd like to keep me as his 'pet human' for longer but it has been decreed that I have had time enough and tomorrow is when I will be taken. My mother wanted to be responsible for my 'crossing', but I will not allow her that satisfaction. If I must go, I will be taken by someone who loves me, however selfishly.

Goodbye,   
Michael

The silence in the room continued for some time after the letter had been read. Frances could be seen to be wiping tears from her eyes whilst Angie sat quietly and pensively.

"Poor, stupid, pitiful Mike," Pearse said slowly. "He doesn't even blame his friend in the end. Jack was right he was loyal." He looked at the others carefully. "I wonder what they hope of him?"

Angie shook her head. "I can't really see, but I could, I suppose hazard some not very scientific guesses." She sighed, "I would have thought though that the time scale was too short, but we know very little really about the actual mechanism of the infection." She thought briefly for a second. "I'll ring an obstetrician I know, he's secure and reliable, researching into blood diseases, and doesn't ask awkward questions." Looking once more at the letter she quietly left the room.

Silence enveloped the room again and stayed for some time.

 

Continued in part 6, The Attack


	6. The Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vaughan cannot believe the evidence of his own eyes.

Vaughan stretched and got up from the desk, glancing ruefully at the pile of reports in front of him and yawned. It was late and the building was quiet and deserted except for the security guards and dogs. He'd stayed late, disturbed by some of the reports that had been coming in of unexplained activity by suspected leech collaborators, and had felt it necessary to double check the reports again. He felt he was beginning feel that something very bad was in the offing, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

Pearse and the others, sensing his unease, had been slightly twitchy over the past days. They were leaving the glorious long nights of the summer behind them, and a general gloom at the thought of the long nights ahead had descended over the team.

Security was tight at all of their houses and movement during the night had been carefully controlled and managed. There had been increased security at HQ since Michael had crossed over. UV lights were left on night and day at entrances and exits, and changes in personnel and practice had been implemented on Vaughan's orders.

Vaughan stretched again and turned to return to the reading then catching movement out of the corner of his eye, briefly froze in shock as he took in a figure standing by the door. He had his gun out and was firing even as he recognised who it was. The figure stopped and staggered slightly, but continued to move forward. Vaughan fired again but the figure continued and was within hands reach as Vaughan attempted to shoot for the third time.

"Hello Vaughan," Michael said cheerfully. "Nice to see you're still the same, you should have started running after the first bullet though." He pulled Vaughan forward with ease, disarming him and slamming him against the wall.

Micheal stood for a brief moment, looking at Vaughan with a strange expression on his face then, pulling handcuffs from his jacket, turned him to face the wall and secured his hands tightly behind him. He span Vaughan round and pushed him into the chair.

Vaughan looked up in something like amazement at Michael. He felt stunned and furious, how could this have happened in headquarters off all places, and why hadn't Michael been destroyed with his first shot? Michael smiled down at him, easily sensing his confusion.

"I learned a lot from you old mate," he said, squeezing Vaughan's shoulder with apparent affection. "More than I had appreciated. "You're a good soldier, that's why you're still alive. My lot want you on their side, and I find it surprisingly difficult to contemplate killing you." He grinned. "I'm glad to see you haven't gone soft though, no hesitation there was there Vaughan," he grinned again and continued. "Mind you I told them it was no go with you, maybe your old mates could persuade you, though I doubt it. Somehow I don't think you have the same type of love and loyalty to them that made me such easy pickings for Jack."

He looked down at Vaughan again in contemplation. Vaughan felt a desperate need to shout and scream, to respond to the taunts, to tell Michael how much he despised him and his kind, but he kept quiet. I might learn something to my advantage he thought fiercely, and then with desperation he knew he couldn't see a way out of this. The leeches were just too fast, and somehow, something had changed. Deep in his misery it took him a few seconds to realise that Michael was still talking to him.

"It was funny, but talking about your mates, killed in the 'friendly fire' incident, got me think about those ashes in the incarceration chamber." Michael was saying. "The others knew something like it must exist and as I described it to them it was suggested that many of our problems would be solved if we could just get access to it ourselves. Yes the UV was a major stumbling block but surely we could get to the power source and shut it off?"

He moved a little looking towards the door. Vaughan realised he was listening, and following his lead stayed quiet and strained his ears toward the door.

"Yes," Michael said, seemingly to relax infinitesimally "We're in," and at that precise moment the lights went out in the room.

Vaughan sat there as his eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light. He couldn't think, he had never ever known such feelings of inadequacy, fear and total and utter despair. What had happened, how could it have happened? And Michael, somehow the despised and pitied Michael, seemed to have been instrumental in all of this. He looked over towards him, and knew he had to know.

"Why didn't I destroy you?" he asked slowly and painfully.

Michael smiled at him, "Did you ever find that letter I wrote?" he asked apparently at random.

Vaughan nodded

"I'm still glad I hid it, I wanted to explain, and even afterwards I did nothing to reclaim the note, I know you will not believe me, but in many ways I am still the same person you knew."

Vaughan shook his head violently. "You're a fucking leech," he said angrily, "and you were a pathetic human."

"No, I wasn't Vaughan," Michael corrected gently. "Certainly not pathetic, even you said I had potential, but definitely a little lost, lonely, miserable and unsure. All the certainties and foundations of my life had just been torn apart and I didn't find the choices left open to me very palatable. I tried, and for a time found some comfort with Frances, but I could never be so certain as the rest of you, and so I was vulnerable to Jack."

He smiled wryly, looking directly at Vaughan. "I do appear to be a little special thanks to my dear mother. I seem more able to think as a human, to put myself in your place easier than the other do, and I'm impatient at their superior attitude to using human weaponry and skills." He grinned in amusement. "Also, and you're going to hate this Vaughan, I have a limited tolerance to UV, very limited and I'm sure you will be glad to know I find it extraordinarily painful, but that is how I got in here with the human workers."

He walked towards the door and looked out into the corridor before returning his attention to Vaughan.  
"I do seemed to have rather hogged this conversation," he said cheerfully, "but you wanted to know why you didn't destroy me." He laughed. "I remembered that Jack wore one when I shot at him, and I persuaded the others that it was the most sensible precaution we could take." He unbuttoned his shirt slightly and Vaughan saw the bulletproof jacket beneath. "Simple really isn't it?"

He returned his attention to the corridor, smiling as another figure appeared. Vaughan watched numbly as Jack and Michael exchanged a few quiet words, then Jack turned to him. He grinned wickedly and licked his lips.

"Well hello again, Vaughan," he smirked. "Mike has had to do a lot of talking, and favours to stop me killing you," he looked across at Michael and smiled. "I'll have to let him more often, it was most enjoyable."

Vaughan watched them exchange smiles and said with disgust, "I always knew there was something more up with you two perverts."

Michael laughed. "Such tolerance Vaughan, I'm really cut to the quick. Anyway, can vampires be perverts?" He looked down with amusement as Vaughan's face went blank.

Jack moved further into the room and bent down so that their faces were level. "Something Mike said gave me a brilliant idea as to how I could get even with you, and not annoy the elders. Mike thinks I'm being a right bastard but I'm sure you'd expect that of me." He licked his lips again before moving to join Michael by the door, turning back to Vaughan with an evil grin. "Some old friends of yours will be very keen on seeing you Vaughan, and I think they are going to be a little hungry after all that time in storage. I've made arrangements for them to be the first ones reanimated, because I'd hate for you to have to wait to long. Perhaps I'll be seeing you, but personally I think not." He grinned again, winked, threw his arm round Mike's shoulders, and together they left the room.

Vaughan shut his eyes, his shoulders drooping in despair, wishing desperately for a gun. He began to relive his time in the warehouse, feeling the same sense of resigned detachment kick in that he had felt in the first minutes of his waiting. The sound of heavy boots marching down the corridor roused him. He began to struggle against the cuffs, well aware how futile the effort was but unable to stop.

As Michael and Jack walked towards the chamber to help with the restoration a scream of anguish rang out from the room they had recently left, but was quickly silenced. Jack stopped, looked at his friend and grinned viciously.  
"All's well that ends well," he intoned solemnly, ignoring Michael's frown of disapproval.

Continued in Part 7, The Aftermath


	7. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very tired Pearse is faced with destruction.

Pearse couldn't remember the last time he had felt so alone and defeated; he had never anticipated this. He felt like a blanket of smog had enveloped him muffling sound and blurring sight. He shook himself trying to concentrate on what was being said to him. He was missing words and knew he must concentrate if there was going to be any possibility of understanding how and why. It seemed important, even as he knew that his survival and worse his very soul was at risk.

"Are you listening, Pearse?" asked Paul Hoyle, lying back in the reclining chair with a look of satisfaction on his features.

The shock of walking in his office and seeing Hoyle sat there, reading his correspondence had almost killed him then and there. He had entered HQ, noticing nothing amiss. It was quiet, but it always was at this time in the morning. The guards had nodded at him as he walked in as usual and whilst he hadn't recognised them nothing in their behaviour had alerted him to any danger. Vaughan was constantly moving men, he often said that change kept them alert, and Pearse had total confidence in his ability. When Hoyle told him that Vaughan was dead, killed by his old mates, he had felt like weeping. Not that they hadn't tried to persuade him, Hoyle had explained, but Vaughan had gone to his death implacable in his hatred and hostility.

"You had a good man there," Hoyle had said, sounding almost sympathetic. "It's a pity he was just so incapable of understanding us."

Hoyle had spent time bringing Pearse up to date with what had happened during the night, explaining that when he knew that they were to stay throughout the next day to net the rest of the squad he had made sure that he got the job of dealing with Pearse.

"I wanted to return the compliment you had so kindly paid me, Pearse," he said smiling serenely. "But I thought I would conduct the interview in a much more civilized manner that you ever did."

Pearse shivered at the subtle threats he heard in the vampire's voice. Hoyle had gone on to express his pleasure at hearing how the whole idea had formed.

"To think it was one of your precious squad that initiated this." He chuckled, sending a shiver of fear down Pearse's neck. "I am looking forward to meeting this Michael, I understand that the elders are rather pleased at the way he has turned out."

He smiled a small secretive smile, as Pearse continued to stare at him in horrified fascination. "They certainly were delighted when you involved him in the shadowy squad they knew far too little about, and from what I gather, the initial disappointment when he did not produce Dr Marsh as intended was quickly forgotten when they understood just how much his revived friend meant to him." He raised his eyebrows in amusement."I am told that I will more than likely meet this Jack if I meet Michael. It seems that they are seldom seen without each other. Now isn't that a tale to warm the cockles of you're heart, Pearse?"

He laughed at Pearse's lack of expression. "I forgot you don't believe that we vampires have any emotions do you? How was it you so delightfully put it; cold, emotionless unfeeling monsters I seem to remember? Well some of us have rather shed most of that baggage, Pearse, but I can certainly gain a lot of pleasure from this situation."

Pearse remained motionless, staring in frightened fascination at Hoyle.

"But let us return to my enforced stay at this establishment." Hoyle waited for a reply, before continuing. "You lied when you said I had talked about destroying humanity, we want to control it yes, but not destroy it, our experiment with blood is a back up, and a way of keeping our food source pure."

"No you lie," Pearse came to life with a vengeance, anger trembling in his voice. "You want to destroy us, why else the nuclear winter scenario you are so obsessed by?"

"We will destroy some people if our attempt succeeds," Hoyle said calmly. As I explained before, our plan is short term, we do not want to destroy all life on this planet that is unthinkable, what would we do to amuse ourselves? No we want a time of darkness to take full control of you humans but you wouldn't be aware of it." He smiled cheerfully, seemingly unaffected at the thought of thousands if not millions of human deaths. "Your scientists would be able to keep most plants and animals alive in controlled conditions, and when sunlight did return you would get on with repopulating your world. We realise that constant darkness is impractical, although some of the very oldest would do it if permitted."

It was at this point that Pearse felt himself drifting in and out of the words, shocked by the calm and calculating manner in which Hoyle spoke, pulling himself up short at Hoyle's demand that he listen.

"Ah I see you have returned Pearse I was getting quite concerned about you, were you praying to that god of yours?"

Pearse ignored the taunt, but found himself troubled by the feelings of desertion he was experiencing. "Where are you my God?' he called silently. "The very devil is in front of me."

"You know we have still not found anyone who claims to truly know you." Hoyle sounded incredulous. "The others were telling me that we know little about you, except that the fear of us drew you to the priesthood. Who or what were you running away from Pearse to make such decision? We gather you had not shown any such vocation before."

"How would you know or understand that? asked Pearse in anger. "What do you and your kind know about vocation and commitment?"

"I'm disappointed in you Pearse," Hoyle said charmingly. "You were so hospitable and calm at our previous meeting, until you destroyed me of course."

Pearse closed his eyes briefly, this leech wrong foots me at every turn he thought, angry with the ease in which he was being manipulated. I feels so tired and hopeless and bereft of anything, even my faith seems to be evaporating in this vacuum of despair. "I was called to the priesthood by my need to understand," he eventually said quietly. "And yes, as you are well aware you leeches played a part in that need."

"I'm a leech now am I?' smiled Hoyle. "A very clever use of words, it destroys any need to face the possibility that we might worthy of understanding. Did you coin that description?'"

"No, but it did seem to sum up a widely held opinion of you which I may add that neither you or others of your kind have managed to dispel."

Hoyle shook his head. "You are blind, Pearse. What we are as humans becomes transformed when we become vampires. We strip away the inessential froth that clogs up our intellect, and reject the tight and rigid morals that humanity has imposed on itself in the name of religion. We exult in our powers and are certain in our aims." He flung out his hands as he spoke as if embracing something. "Among our kind many continue to enjoy the pleasures of sex and companionship, whilst others like myself find our greatest pleasure in knowledge and power. Like humanity we are individuals, but unlike humanity we are linked to each other and answerable to the greater cause. We have freedom but we also have an overriding responsibility to the whole. We are the future, Pearse."

Pearse remained silent after Hoyle had stopped speaking, unsure that he understood the implications of what had been said to him. He swallowed, cleared his throat and formulated a denial of what he understood Hoyle to be stating. "You have chosen to desert the human race, to lose your soul and your God. Without light and salvation what can the existence you have chosen possibly offer?" He leaned earnestly towards Hoyle. "We are more than the molecules and atoms that bind us together, we are spiritual beings."

Hoyle laughed. "So I get a lesson in spirituality as answer to my attempt to make you understand. This leopard obviously does not change its spots. I believe we have had most of this conversation before, but last time you were asking me what you would lose if you crossed. Did you have to beg your God for forgiveness in betraying my trust in you?"

"What trust?" Pearse sneered. "Your 'confession' was yet another of those party tricks that you use so successfully to fool humanity. Tell me, Hoyle, why this constant emphasis on free will that you yet again try and trick us into accepting as an almost moral constancy?"

Hoyle put his fingers together on the desk, and thought for a while before replying. "Those taken against their will have proved to be self destructive and have taken many of our kind with them in their decaying spiral," he said slowly. "So you see, Pearse, free will isn't the truism you think it is, you need to want to come."

"I suppose persuasion by infecting your victims is not counted as removing free will?" Pearse said scornfully.

Hoyle sighed. "Pearse, we can influence and persuade subtly but finally the decision must be an individual one. We cannot make someone do something that they are implacably opposed to, even you must accept that."

Pearse groaned, 'Where is this conversation leading?' he asked Hoyle wearily.

"I think you know that, Pearse," Hoyle said smiling serenely. "You leave here as one of us, or you die here, there is no alternative. That is the choice we give to you and Dr Angie Marsh. Your colleague Frances we would like back in her old job under our care of course. Whilst we have people already working for us she would be useful. So we have organised that she will not be coming into work today."

There was silence in the room. Pearse had known this from the start, but having it so baldly stated made him realise how frightened he was for himself and mostly for Angie. If she was dealing with her husband and daughter, she must be in turmoil.

Hoyle waited out the silence for a time and then started talking again. "You and your squad have done immense damage to our networks. Even I knew of you and I was in South America for much of the time. Your Vatican credentials, ears in high places and almost total autonomy has been a plague in our house for many years. Other countries have far less resources and far less influential ways of dealing with us."

He glanced at Pearse as he spoke. "I say this as a compliment to your efficiency. We want you destroyed, so we are slowly removing those people in responsible positions that believe you. We intend that humanity in this small island return to its previous happy lack of knowledge of our kind as nothing more than stories and myths, or flights of fancy from big name science fiction writers and film directors." He laughed humourlessly. "Mind you, some of them have been a little hard to stomach."

He stood slowly from the chair, extending his hand towards Pearse. "Come, Pearse, I will show you how your little empire will be destroyed," and gestured for Pearse to precede him from the room.

Pearse looked around him as he walked the corridors. Little looked out of the ordinary and few people were in evidence, those he did see in the distance he didn't recognise. He could not tell if they were human or leech.   
Hoyle was taking him towards the incarceration chamber, he wasn't sure that he wanted to see this.  
When they walked in Pearse was again surprised by the lack of obvious difference. Except that the chamber looked duller with the UV turned off, it all looked so normal. A woman seated at the computer terminal, turned round to face him.

"You must be Pearse," she said smiling at him as if welcoming him at a cocktail party, "I've heard a lot about you from my son."

"And you must be the monstrous woman that he wrote about," Pearse said equally pleasantly.

The woman seemed amused. "My what a thing to say of a lady you've only just met," she exclaimed melodramatically. "He finally told us about the letter, but of course we were aware of it, we thought it would be amusing to leave. What a sweet trusting boy he was." She laughed happily. "He has changed since you last saw him, Pearse, but not as much as you might think. Come, Michael, face your old leader."

Pearse sighed looking towards the entrance, so they intend to taunt me as well as weary me to death he thought, I don't know that I can play this game for much longer.

After a brief wait, Michael walked into the room. "Hello Pearse," he said softly. "This isn't my idea of fun, but I always do as my mother commands, like a dutiful son should." He smiled wryly, "I'm not into gloating and whilst I am glad to have helped our cause, I do feel a certain sense of sadness that this should be happening to you." He smiled again at Pearse's look of outraged disbelief, turning towards his mother. "May I leave now mother, duty done?" he enquired, and Pearse heard the faint sarcasm in his voice.

"Foolish boy," she said amused, reaching forward to kiss him on the lips.

"Goodbye, Pearse, I hope that I will see you again," Michael said gently, smiled at him once more, then left.

"He's a handsome boy don't you think?" his mother asked. "I do so enjoy him in many ways." She winked provocatively at Pearse.

"You're shocking the priest," Hoyle said in obvious amusement as Pearse struggled to keep quiet and not allow his feelings to be expressed. He had been shaken by seeing Michael and disturbed at his words. He was beginning to wonder if the leeches were as cold and emotionless as he had always believed. That they were ruthless was obvious, but this possibility of emotions in a sense made them even more dangerous.

He turned to Hoyle. "I believe you wanted to show me something interesting," he said coolly."

The woman laughed and returned to her work.

"So what was it you wanted me to see?' Pearse asked Hoyle. "The empty chamber or one of my failures?"

Hoyle smiled but didn't answer. He continued to show Pearse around a calm, normal looking and basically unchanged HQ.

"What are you trying to show me Hoyle?" Pearse finally asked as they stood outside the medical centre.

"The normality," Hoyle said. "But look in here, Pearse," and he pushed him through the door.

Pearse saw bodies everywhere and recognised most of the security and admin staff from the building. Out the corner of his eye he noticed a young leech feeding, she had a dreamy expression on her face and he noted with shock that she was wearing a hospital nightgown.

Pearse felt very weary and was aware that his hands were trembling slightly. He clenched them tightly and looked towards Hoyle. "I see Hoyle," he said quietly. "What am I suppose to infer that I couldn't have surmised anyway?"

"Very good," Hoyle said approvingly. "No hysterics, ranting, abuse, just a wise and patient priest dealing with an irritating little difficulty." He glanced at Pearse's hands. "You are dying, Pearse," he continued in a milder voice. "I can sense the cancer in you more, the shock has triggered its growth."

Pearse was silent. Hoyle contemplated him for some time.

"Pearse, the time for your decision in now. We intend to blow up this place, a gas explosion we think, a sad accident. They will find all the right bodies in here with no other sign of violence on them that cannot be explained by the explosion. Your body will be found in your office, but as you know it need not be that way. Come, make your decision now. I will give you a few minutes on your own in your office, unless you want to speak to someone else?"

Pearse shook his head silently and followed Hoyle back to his office. He felt utterly exhausted and totally without hope. When Hoyle left, he slumped to his knees and began praying in desperation. A few minutes later the door quietly open then closed. Pearse stood up and prepared to meet Hoyle and his fate with dignity.

"Hello, Pearse my darling," said a soft, female voice.

Pearse clutched at the table, grief, pain and anguish clawing at his soul, making him tremble with exhaustion and terror.

"Look at me Pearse," the voice gently commanded.

Pearse looked up into the never forgotten, much loved face and knew he was damned.

Continued in Part 8, Ambiguity


	8. Ambiguity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A resolution, of a kind.

Pearse walked towards the younger man sprawled on the steps below him and sat next to him. Dark eyes looked up at him

"Let off your leash then?" Michael asked, smiling at the look of irritation that crossed Pearce's face.

"I've been looking after myself for years, why she thinks I need a minder I don't know," he grumbled.

Michael grinned in sympathy, "I understand, I have two."

Pearse looked at him inquiringly.

"My newly acquired parent had a sudden and very late burst of maternal instinct," Michael grinned, sitting up. "Drives Jack mad so I encourage it."

Pearse smiled.

They sat in silence for some time watching the bats fly in the midnight air and listening to the sounds of the grasshoppers.

"Very symbolic," Pearse said slowly, nodding at the bats, and watched his companion's face crease into a smile of appreciation. They resumed their silent appraisal of the surroundings until Pearse, slightly restless, turned towards Michael.

"Do you ever have regrets?" he asked slowly.

Michael looked up and the sky and the spreading city below them and sighed. "Not really a word one associates with our kind," he said thoughtfully. "But yes, I find I do and surprisingly Vaughan is one of them."

Silence greeted the mention of their erstwhile colleague and the pair settled back down into their mutual contemplation.

"She doesn't have any you know," Pearse's voice filled the silence and the words hung there like an echo. "Laura is just pleased to have found me."

"I doubt Jack's ever had much time for regret," Michael replied and Pearse could hear the amused resignation in his voice. "Useful character trait for a vampire I believe."

Pearse nodded his head in agreement. "I regret the killings," he said quietly. "I regret the whole existence of the squad and my implacable hatred."

Michael looked at him carefully. "But you were so right in many ways, Pearse," he said slowly. "We are looking for world domination, in a sense. We are parasites on the human race and we are determined to continue come what may, don't you think that was sufficient to keep the squad going?"

Pearse remained silent then sighed, "I'm unsure of the human cost," he said thoughtfully.

"Human?" Michael sounded amused. "We no longer are human, Pearse."

Pearse looked straight ahead his shoulders rigid with suppressed passion, "Yet I cannot forget," he said quietly.

"I understand," Michael, said just as quietly, gently squeezing Pearse's shoulders. "If you want a vampire's perspective I'm probably not the best person to ask," he continued. "I have been told often enough by Jack that I carry too much human baggage with me." He shifted slightly. "Sometimes I wish otherwise, yet I think we all need some kind of conscience."

Pearse smiled. "You know, you are far less angry and driven now than you were with the Squad, I find that rather amusing."

Michael looked lazily at him and smiled. "One of those strange quirks of life and death," he acknowledged. "You know, I am strangely at peace, perhaps even content, if I am allowed to use such an emotionally ladened word. Perhaps this was my destiny, perhaps I might be able to change things slightly just by being who I am." He grinned suddenly. "Or perhaps Jack is right and I'm a stupid, pompous wanker."

"I can hear him say that," Pearse murmured.

"Yeah, he's got a way with words has Jack." Michael lay back on the stone and stretched. "Tell me about Laura?" he asked.

Pearse turned slightly at the sudden change in subject and shrugged his shoulders. "Love of my life," he said easily but with deep emphasis. "We were at college together, I was studying philosophy and theology she was a brilliant mathematician even as a graduate. We lived together for some years after graduating and she became deeply involved in physics, leaving pure maths. I never really inquired what she was involved in; I doubt I would have understood."

He smiled at some hidden thought. "They became interested in her, and she started to display the classic symptoms, although I of course neither recognised them nor would have believed in them." He stopped, resting his hands on the step, before continuing. "I had become very friendly with a priest at the college I lectured at, we discussed theology and philosophy. Laura slowly began to become agitated around him." He stopped, "You remember that infected boy and the priest he killed?"

Michael nodded.

Pearse frowned. "He must have had some contact with our kind before as he began to ask me questions about her behaviour and asked me to bring her to meet another priest. Laura was angry with me when I mentioned it and left me for a few days. When she returned she was different, more controlled, emotionless or so I thought. When my friend returned with this other man, she flew at him and it took the three of us to keep her from killing him. She turned on me, and bit me, but my friend pushed her aside as she was feeding and plunged a stake in her."

He sighed, "She exploded, and I was damn lucky not to get badly burnt, but that was the end of Laura. Once I got over the shock my friend gave me her ashes and I kept them out of love. It was from that, and the subsequent cover up, that I began to study for the priesthood and was recruited. When I began to understand more about regeneration and was given the task of building up the Squad I had Laura's ashes kept in the Incarceration Chamber."

"So you abiding hatred came from the loss of Laura and also your conviction that vampires were cold, emotionless killers?" Michael asked curiously.

Pearse nodded rocking forward on the step. "I guess we were wrong and right on that," he said calmly. "You suggested that they were emotionally amoral, and I think I would accept that."

Michael smiled. "I've become quite the little philosopher," he said, a slight note of self-mocking laughter in his voice. Standing up in a fluid graceful movement, he reached out his hand to the older man. "Lets feed," he suggested. "I find most of my moral ambiguities flee at the smell and taste of blood."

Pearse bared his teeth in anticipation, accepting the hand, but before they could move a voice came from the darkness, and a shape flowed towards Michael, wrapping itself around him.

"Leaving without me, lover?" Jack asked, a touch of displeasure in his voice.

Michael leaned into the embrace, turning his face to be kissed. "As if I could," he said smiling.

Jack grinned at him, turning him round and kissing him ruthlessly.

Pearse watched, amused at the possessiveness of Jack's words and caresses, a little surprised that Michael seemed to both accept and enjoy Jack's behaviour. He smiled, who was he fooling, Laura lifted her little finger and he ran to her.

Apparently satisfied that he had made his point, Jack unwound himself from his lover held out a hand, and glanced at Pearse.

"Join us," he said with a grin.

Pearse nodded, and they set off to hunt in the city, leaving the bats the sole tenants of the abandoned building.


End file.
